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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25736086">We Are Sad French Boi Hours</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmiebee/pseuds/emmiebee'>emmiebee</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Old Guard (Movie 2020)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>And love, Booker is a sad man, Gen, I'm so sorry, Jacques is love Jacques is life, Not Canon Compliant, also there's a bird, band au (sort of), basically the old guard if it was a musical comedy, but also family, emo rock band, found family fluff, his name is Jacques, i mean it's booker so of course there will be a little angst, please don't take it seriously, there might be some angst, this is going to be chaotic, this is just for fun</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 01:59:06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,052</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25736086</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmiebee/pseuds/emmiebee</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The gang goes undercover as an emo rock band. That is all.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, potential Booker/OC</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>88</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. In Which Andy Makes a Terrible Decision</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“No.”<br/>“Andy-”<br/>“I said no.” <br/>“C’mon, it’s not that bad-”<br/>“Joe. I said no. No means no.”<br/>“It’s just a job, Andy,” Nile protests from her spot leaning against the battered old dining table. “What could you possibly be so offended about?”<br/>         Andy shoots her a glare that could burn down a large forest in a matter of seconds, then turns that same glare back to Joe. “You didn’t even tell them?”<br/>      “I told Nicky,” Joe argues. Andy rolls her eyes. “Of course you did. Nicky? What do you have to say for yourself?”<br/>       Nicky’s head snaps up from his book, and he looks between Joe and Andy, calculating whether or not to support his love and risk getting killed, or take Andy’s side and avoid an unnecessary death. <br/>        “Wait,” Nile steps forward, spreading her hands in a placating gesture. “What exactly are we talking about here? What is Andy so opposed to?”<br/>        Joe clasps his hands together in front of him like he’s giving a lecture and turns to face Nile. “Copley found a job for us,” he starts, clearly trying to hold back a massive grin. <br/>        “Yeah, we’re supposed to assassinate some guy, I heard that part,” Nile says, narrowing her eyes. “What’s the part I don’t know?”<br/>        “Well…” Joe glances at Andy, the possibility of being murdered by her in a matter of seconds finally setting into his mind. “You see, we would have to go undercover for this job… As…”<br/>        “As what?” Nile looks almost as dangerous as Andy now. <br/>“... a rock band.” Joe finishes. Silence falls as that information is processed by everyone in the room.<br/>       “I’m sorry,” Booker leans forward, showing interest in the conversation for the first time. “A what?”<br/>        “A rock band,” Joe says again, crossing his arms, daring anyone to say something. “An emo rock band. Also we’d be French.”<br/>      “Why?” Booker asks. “Why do we have to be a rock band? Is there no other option?”<br/>“Apparently not,” Andy growls, glaring at Joe like this is all his fault.<br/>     “I asked,” Nicky adds from the corner. “It seems that the man we’re after will be going to a number of events in the next couple of months, and those are the best openings we have to get to him. And supposedly the only thing these events are missing..”<br/>        “Is a band,” Joe finishes matter-of-factly. “That’s us.”<br/>“No it is not,” Andy snaps. “We are not doing this.”<br/>         “He’s a bad man, Andy,” Nicky points out. “He’s a human trafficker. He takes children.” <br/>      Andy sighs and buries her head in her hands. Nile raises an eyebrow. Joe shoots an excited look at Nicky, who shakes his head but smiles softly. Booker returns to staring glumly at the table.<br/>         “Do we have to be that kind of band?” Andy asks after a minute. “Copley said that’s what the guy specifically requested,” Joe says. Andy groans. The groan turns into a frustrated scream. Then she closes her eyes and just says. “Fine.”<br/>          The reactions to this decision vary from Joe literally bouncing into the air and shouting “Yes!” to Nile frowning, trying to picture any way that this could not be a disaster, to Nicky laughing at Joe’s excitement, to Booker muttering “fuck” and placing his head down on the table. <br/>        It’s only later that night, once they’ve all settled down, that Nile bothers to ask: “Wait, can any of us actually play any instruments?”</p><p>             ****************************************************************************************<br/>The next few days are a blur of mission prep, everyone having different levels of enthusiasm and helpfulness. Nile decides to actually try teaching herself how to play a keyboard, which is a lot harder than she was expecting, considering she only has a week to learn. Joe and Nicky take it upon themselves to come up with a band name, and are often found debating about the merits of each name while Andy vetoes everything they come up with. Booker refuses to do anything and just sits and watches all the goings-on silently, usually with a glass in his hand. <br/>       It is on a day such as this that a moment of genius so unparalleled by anything ever recorded in the history of the world leads them all to the perfect band name.</p><p>        “Ok, ok, I got it. Andromache and the Scythians.” Joe spreads his hands like am I right? “What do we think?”<br/>        “Definitely not,” Andy says immediately, not even looking at him. “No way.”<br/>“Why not?” Joe is spread out on the battered couch in the hideout’s main room, his head on Nicky’s lap. At this moment he tries to get up to confront Andy, but gives up as Nicky pulls him back down.<br/>        “Because that name makes it sound like I’m in charge, and even though I am, I do not want anything to do with this band.”<br/>        “Fine,” Joe sighs. “That was the best idea I had, though, so now we’re stuck.”<br/>Nicky tilts his head to one side, thinking. “The Immortals? Everything Dies?”<br/>        “Everything Dies?” Joe laughs. “Nicolo, that’s depressing.”<br/>Nicky makes a face and shrugs. “It sounded emo in my head.”<br/>            It’s at this moment that Andy looks up and notices Nile coming into the room. “Where have you been?” <br/>      “Trying to learn keyboard.” Nile sighs, flopping down on the couch as Joe sits up and scoots over to make room for her. <br/>     Andy frowns. “Why?”<br/> “Because if we’re going to be a band, and actually perform as a band, I might as well actually know how to play the instrument I’m supposed to be playing.”<br/>      “Oh shit did we decide who was playing what instrument?” Andy looks around at the others questioningly. Joe glanes at Nicky, who shrugs, then shrugs himself. “I don’t think so.”<br/>         “Well I wanna be the drummer,” Andy decides. “If I’m going to be a part of this, I want to at least be able to hit something with a stick.”<br/>       “Do you even know how to play the drums?” Booker asks from where he sits at the dining table, observing silently. <br/>      “I think I just explained how to play the drums pretty well,” Andy replies. “You hit something with a stick.”<br/>        Booker snorts and turns back to his drink. Andy raises an eyebrow. “What, like you know how to play an instrument?”<br/>       “I can, as a matter of fact,” Booker counters. “I play the flute.”<br/>This prompts a collective moment of confused staring from the rest of the group. “I don’t think we can have a flute in a rock band,” Nicky muses. “Can we?”<br/>      “We can’t have anything if we don’t have a name,” Joe points out. <br/>“Then pick one,” Booker grunts, rising to his feet and heading to the door. <br/>       “Sad French Boi Hours?” Nile asks, and he gives her an amused look before nodding. “Yeah.”<br/>        “What?” Joe leans forward, looking between Nile and Booker, eyes lighting up. “What did you just say?”<br/>      Nile glances at Booker quickly, silently asking whether he’s okay with this being explained, before speaking: “It’s what I call Book’s alone time, when he just… goes to sit with his thoughts. It’s kind of like a joke we have.”<br/>       “It’s genius is what it is,” Joe cries, grinning. He looks around at the others, eyes shining. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”<br/>        Booker’s eyes widen. “You’re not- No. Joe-”<br/>But Joe doesn’t stop. “We’re an emo band. An emo French band. What could be a better name for an emo french band than Sad French Boi Hours?”<br/>         There’s a moment of silence in which the group all look at each other. Andy smiles wickedly. “I love it.”<br/>       “It does have a certain ring to it,” Nicky agrees. They all look to Booker, who crosses his arms over his chest. “If we’re calling the band Sad French Boi Hours, I get to be the lead singer.”<br/>       “Nicky’s already the lead singer,” Joe protests. “You can be the bassist.”<br/>“If you’re going to name the band after me, which you will because you have no better option, I’m the lead singer. It’s either that or you don’t get to use the name.”<br/>      “I’m alright with not being the lead singer,” Nicky says. “I’ll be the bassist.”<br/>Joe glances at him briefly, then sighs. “Fine. Book’s the lead singer.”<br/>       “Alright then,” Booker sits back down at the table, alone time with his thoughts forgotten. “So what am I singing?”<br/>      This brings Joe back to life. He rifles through his sketchbook and produces a few loose pages covered in writing. “I had some ideas.”<br/>     Booker takes the pages and looks over them. “These are all about Nicky,” he says. Joe shrugs again. “What can I say? Music comes from the heart, and my heart is full of Nicky.” Nicky grins and kisses his cheek. “You’re sweet.”<br/>        “Ok, I’m not singing love songs about Nicky,” Booker argues. <br/>“I don’t think we should sing any love songs,” Andy adds. “That’s not very emo, is it? I mean, heartbreak is emo, self-hatred is emo, Booker is emo-”<br/>      “Booker is what?”<br/>“Shut up I’m talking. My point is, we need something like that.”<br/>       Booker sighs. “I can come up with something.”<br/>“Good, because we leave tomorrow,” Andy says. <br/>       “And we’re so prepared,” Nile mutters. <br/>“What was that, Nile?”<br/>                “Nothing.”<br/>“Ok then.” Andy grins. “Sad French Boi Hours it is.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. In Which Nicky Wears Eyeliner</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The band performs their first set. Booker makes a friend (sort of). Someone gets shot.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Copley lets them take his plane. It’s a nice plane. There’s a TV. And champagne. Joe hogs the champagne instantly, insisting that it ‘gets his creative juices flowing’. Nicky takes it away from him a minute later. Booker is not given access to the champagne, which he is not happy about. “We need you focused if you’re gonna write us some material, Book,” Andy tells him. This doesn’t improve his mood one bit. In the end Andy and Nile have control of the champagne, sharing it between them throughout the ride. <br/>      The trip is spent attempting (and mostly failing) to come up with song lyrics. Joe and Booker argue back and forth about what the tone and mood of each song is supposed to be, while Nicky makes attempts to mediate. In the end they agree to sing one of the songs that Joe wrote (about Nicky, of course), one song that Booker wrote (and still hasn’t shared with the rest of them), one song that they all collaborated on (it’s a mess), and one song that they would improvise on the spot (this is not a good idea). <br/>       “I don’t know, isn’t that kind of a short set?” Nile asks. Booker sighs. “What else are we going to do? I am not singing any more about Nicky’s eyes than I absolutely have to, and I draw the line at Andy’s three hour drum solo.”<br/>        “We’re doing the drum solo,” Andy snaps. <br/>          “We are not doing the drum solo.”<br/>          “You spoil all my fun.”</p><p>        When they finally land, they only have a few hours before they have to be at the event ready to perform, so they split up duties between the five of them, with Joe and Nicky in charge of securing hotel rooms and food, Booker and Andy in charge of scouting out the location and making sure the instruments that Copley bought them are all there and in good condition, and Nile in charge of finding outfits fitting for an emo rock band.<br/>        After a while, Nile calls them all to the hotel rooms to try on what she picked out. They have two hotel rooms, one for Joe and Nicky (‘I am not sharing a room with those two in this situation’, Andy said) and one for Booker, Andy, and Nile (Booker is sleeping on the tiny couch). The group gathers in the bigger room (Booker, Andy, and Nile’s), each with varying levels of enthusiasm, from a 10 (Joe) to a 0 (Booker). Nile hands them all bags of clothing, and they each go off to a private corner/bathroom/different room to change.<br/>       Andy was the first to return, dressed in dark ripped jeans and a sleeveless leather jacket over a black tank top. She has spiked bracelets on both wrists and heavy combat boots on her feet. She had demanded that she not be forced to wear makeup, so her face is untouched. She did, it appears, make use of the temporary hair dye Nile got her, and a whole sheath of her hair is now jet-black. <br/>      “Looking good,” Nile tells her, and gives a thumbs up. Andy looks her up and down, then nods approvingly. “Not bad yourself.” <br/>     Nile had dressed herself in sheer black tights and a short black dress with a skull necklace. It’s not much, but she thinks it looks good.<br/>      Joe is the next one to come out of hiding, and he’s grinning like a maniac in way too tight black skinny jeans, a see-through black mesh shirt, and a black and silver baseball cap, which he’s wearing backwards (naturally). “Oh I like this, Nile,” he says, giving a little twirl to show off his outfit. <br/>      “Why is your shirt see through?” Andy demands. “Nile, why is his shirt see through?”<br/>Nile is saved from having to answer by a groan of “Are you kidding me?” from the doorway. <br/>    Joe, Nile, and Andy turn to see Booker standing there, looking down at himself in disbelief. Andy loses it instantly. “Book,” she gasps between bouts of hysterical laughter, “you look- you look-”<br/>     “Don’t,” he growls. “Don’t you even start, Andromache.”<br/>Nile has to admit, Booker does look pretty… special. She gave him ripped jeans to match Andy’s, as well as a tattered denim vest and a v-neck black tank that shows off way too much chest. He’s wearing a necklace with a skull charm, and to top it all off, there are purple streaks in his hair.<br/>        “Nile, I am going to kill you,” he says plainly. “And then I am going to do it again. And then probably again.”<br/>       “You look great, Book,” she tells him, though she can barely contain her laughter. <br/>At that moment, a quiet voice from the bathroom doorway says “Nile, I’m not quite sure about this-” and Nicky walks in. <br/>      “Santa Maria Madre de Dios” Joe gasps, jaw dropping nearly to the floor. Nile can’t help but suppress a smug grin as she takes in her handiwork.<br/>      Nicky’s wearing plain black jeans, tight but not nearly as tight as Joe’s. His shirt is plain as well, black with an intricate silver skull design. He has a genuine black leather jacket over this, and black leather fingerless gloves on each hand. His hair is styled so that it looks elegantly mussed, spiking in the front. And… he’s wearing eyeliner. He looks, quite frankly, gorgeous.<br/>          “Damn, Nicky,” Andy comments with a raised eyebrow. “Unlike the rest of us, you actually manage to pull off the look. Isn’t that right, Joe?”<br/>           Joe makes a very undignified noise somewhere between a squeak and a moan. He seems to have forgotten how to breathe. When Nicky notices this, a slow smirk spreads across his face and he mouths ‘thank you’ at Nile. She grins back. ‘No problem.’ <br/>        “Why don’t we give the boys a minute?” Andy says quietly to Booker and Nile. “We can meet up at the venue later.”<br/>           And so they do.</p><p>                    ***********************************************************************************<br/>       The venue is a massive elegant building of marble. The inside is lavishly decorated with velvet and gold, and Nile has to take a second to stop and stare at it all. <br/>           The group is led through a huge ballroom with a raised platform at the front, where they will be performing later. They are sent to a small backstage area to prepare. Joe and Nicky join them a few minutes later, both breathless, flushed, and a little messier than they had been. <br/>      “Alright,” Andy says once they’re all gathered. “You see that guy over there, by the buffet table? That’s Abelard Bouffant, our target. You all know the plan?”<br/>       Nods all around. They would do their set, socialize and try to subtly spy, and then as Bouffant was leaving Nicky would take him down from the roof.<br/>       “Good.” Andy looks around at all of their faces one more time. “It’s showtime.”<br/>           The ballroom is packed with people, all of them in suits and ties with glasses of champagne in their hands. The band doesn’t seem to fit in in any way, but it’s too late to back down now. <br/>       “Hello,” Booker says awkwardly, approaching the microphone. “We are, uh, Sad French Boi Hours, and we hope you… enjoy the show.” And with that, they begin.<br/>       They launch into their first song, which is one that Joe wrote:<br/>         “Battlefield, bodies all around,<br/>           Fire in the air and blood on the ground.<br/>         I’m all that’s left, I’m all that’s left…<br/>           I should be dead.”<br/>The song is called ‘Crusaders’ and it chronicles Joe and Nicky’s love story from the first time they killed each other to where they are now, expressing their belief that they were meant to find each other and would be together when their immortality finally ran out. It’s a very sweet song, and Booker somehow manages to carry it beautifully. Nile has to admit, he’s not a bad singer. His voice is low and rough, with a melancholy edge to it that somehow adds to the tone of the music. Nile is more worried about the perpetual heart eyes Joe and Nicky are sending each other from across the stage. She doesn’t know if it’s possible to kill someone with loving stares, but these two are certainly trying their best.<br/>       Once that song is over, they do the one they all wrote together, which is about banding together and fighting the evil in the world. Andy is particularly into this one, and is actually smiling as she plays her drums. <br/>      After that they improvise. This turns into Andy’s three hour drum solo, which wasn’t supposed to happen at all. Then it is time for their last song, Booker’s song. The rest of the group has only heard the instrumental for this, and this is the first time they are hearing the lyrics. It starts out quiet, Booker describing watching everyone he loves die. Nile isn’t prepared for the emotion on his face as he sings, for the way his eyes tear up as he hits the chorus:<br/>           “Ashes to ashes and dust to dust<br/>             Everything comes to an end, or so they say.<br/>           Well they must not have been talking about memories<br/>            The things that don’t fade away<br/>            Everything I’ve lost and everything I’ve done, they haunt me day and night<br/>            It’s like being immortal when all I want to do is die.<br/>             It’s like being immortal when all I want to do is die…”<br/>Andy falters on the drums, staring at Booker with a pained look on her face. Joe and Nicky are shooting each other worried looks. Nile’s heart constricts in her chest. Oh, Book… <br/>        When the song is over, silence falls. Then there’s a smattering of applause, and it’s done.</p><p>               ************************************************************************************<br/>The first thing Booker does once they’ve cleaned up the stage and put all their instruments away is make a beeline for the bar. He doesn’t look at any of the others. He doesn’t want their questions, their worry, their pity. He’s fine. He just needs a drink.<br/>         He can’t believe he actually sang that song. What was he thinking? He just needed to get it out. He couldn’t keep it locked in his head anymore. <br/>He gets a drink and leans against the bar, not wanting to interact with anyone. So much for that. Almost as soon as he takes a sip, a voice behind him says: “That was a pretty impressive set.”<br/>           Booker turns to see a man standing a few feet away, an unfamiliar man with long wavy dark hair pulled back into a ponytail and steely gray eyes. The man seems to be expecting a response, so Booker just shrugs. “I guess so.”<br/>        The man leans against the bar beside him and orders a drink. “That last song was fucking deep. Did you write it yourself?”<br/>         “Yup,” Booker just wants him to go away. He doesn’t want to talk to anyone, let alone a stranger. But the man doesn’t shut up.<br/>      “Can you imagine being immortal?” he says. “Watching your family fade away, going to a place where you could never join them? I think it would drive me crazy.”<br/>         “You have no idea,” Booker mutters. <br/>“The only reason I would want to live forever is so that I could see a better world,” the man muses. “Or to see if we could ever make a better world. I believe we can, but I know others don’t. Me, I make a habit of looking for the light in the darkness everywhere I go. You should try it sometime.”<br/>         “Don’t tell me what to do,” Booker snaps. “You don’t know me.”<br/>“Correction, I don’t know you yet,” the man says. “I’m AJ, by the way.”<br/>       Booker doesn’t want to talk to this man, but he sighs and says “Sebastien.”<br/>AJ grins. “Well, Sebastien, you intrigue me. I’ll see you around.” and with that, he turns and walks away, leaving his drink untouched. <br/>         “What the fuck was that,” Booker mutters to himself, finishing his drink and downing AJ’s as well. Sometimes he doesn’t understand people.</p><p>          ***************************************************************************************<br/>There’s a light breeze on the roof of the building, ruffling Joe’s curls as he watches the parking lot below, waiting for Abelard Bouffant to come out. Beside him, Nicky shifts and lines up his sight on his sniper rifle. Joe knows he’s supposed to be paying attention to the mission, but he can’t help his gaze straying to his Nicolo in the black leather and eyeliner. <br/>      “Stop staring at me,” Nicky scolds without looking at him. “Watch the parking lot.”<br/>“The parking lot is not the hottest thing on earth,” Joe points out. “You are.”<br/>         Nicky gives him a look, and he rolls his eyes. “Fine, fine.”<br/>He looks back down at the parking lot and tenses. “There he is.” <br/>          Nicky shifts again and prepares to take the shot. This is easy. It’ll be over in a second.<br/>But just as Nicky’s hand brushes the trigger, a shot rings out and blood blooms on the back of his head. Joe barely has time to scream his name before a gun goes off again and everything goes dark.<br/>       Below, in the parking lot, Bouffant goes about his business, getting his car and driving away. Back on the roof, a silent figure holsters his gun and turns away, escaping into the night.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. In Which Jacques Joins the Family</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Joe and Nicky slow dance. Booker and Nile go to a pet store. Copley's deepest darkest secret is revealed.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“And you didn’t see him?”<br/>“For the last time, Andy, no, I did not see him. I got shot in the head before I could.”<br/>“Nicky? Did you see him?”<br/>Nicky shakes his head. “I was shot before Yusuf, so no. I did not see him either.”<br/>    “Fuck,” Andy covers her face with her hands and sinks down into her chair. “This is bad. This is very bad.”<br/>     The five of them, Andy, Nicky, Joe, Booker, and Nile, are all gathered in Andy’s hotel room, reviewing the events of the previous night. <br/>       It was supposed to be a fairly simple mission, but after Andy and Nile had found Joe and Nicky dead on the roof, they had all realized that it was going to be way more complicated than originally thought. <br/>      “You know what this means?” Andy groans. “It means we have to try again. It means we have to be a band again. We have to perform again. Fuuuuck.”<br/>      “I liked performing,” Nile says quietly. “It was kinda fun.”<br/>“Alright,” Andy says, rising to her feet. “The next opportunity we have to pull this off is tomorrow, so we have today off. I’m going to go see if I can find a gym and punch some things. You all… do whatever you want.” And with that, she grabs her jacket and leaves the room.<br/>       “I think I’m going to go explore the city,” Nile decides. “Just… wander around, check things out. You wanna come?” this last question is aimed at Booker, who hasn’t said a word to any of them since last night. He shrugs. “Why not?”<br/>           The two of them head out as well, leaving just Joe and Nicky, Nicky sitting cross legged against the headboard of one of the beds, with Joe stretched out beside him. Joe flips over onto his stomach, propping his chin on his hands and gazing at the love of his life. “Alone in a hotel room…” he muses. “Whatever shall we do?”<br/>       Nicky raises an eyebrow. “I don’t know, Yusuf, whatever shall we do?”<br/>Joe smirks, but the smirk quickly turns into a frown. “Can I ask you something?”<br/>      “You know you can ask me anything.”<br/>“Why didn’t you want to be the lead singer of the band? When Book said he wanted to, you almost seemed relieved. Why?”<br/>       Nicky gives a slight shrug. “It’s like you said,” he explains. “Music comes from the heart. When I sing, it’s like I’m... sharing a part of me. And I didn’t want to sing for the band because I don’t want to share my heart with the world. Only with you.”<br/>      “That’s… that’s a pretty damn good reason,” Joe admits. Nicky grins and kisses him, soft and slow. When they break apart, Nicky rests his forehead against Joe’s and starts singing softly, something in Italian about undying love. His voice is gorgeous, sweet and strong, just like Nicky himself.<br/>      Joe stands up from the bed, grabs hold of Nicky’s hands, and pulls him up as well. As the song continues, Joe places one hand on Nicky’s waist and takes his love’s hand in the other. They sway to the sound of Nicky’s voice, alone in a hotel room in France, just the two of them and their love. <br/>      Joe gives Nicky a twirl, then dips him. Nicky yelps and loses his balance, breaking the song and almost falling over. Joe catches him before he can, however. “Graceful, my heart.”<br/>     Nicky sniffs, lifting his chin imperiously. “I am the picture of grace. That did not happen.”<br/>Joe laughs, and Nicky starts the song all over again, they pick up their dance and spend the afternoon together, just two immortal warriors in love, slow dancing in a hotel room.</p><p>             ***************************************************************************************<br/>“What are we doing here?” Booker asks, frowning at the small building that Nile has dragged him to. <br/>     “It’s a pet store!” Nile declares, flinging her arms out wide and grinning. “Don’t you like looking at cute animals when you’re in a bad mood?”<br/>     “Who said I was in a bad mood?” Booker grunts. She gives him a look. He sighs. “So maybe that song last night was a little… personal. But I’m fine, I swear. You don’t need to worry about me.”<br/>       “Too late,” Nile tells him. “But if you won’t talk to me about it, at least come look at puppies with me?”<br/>       She gives him a pleading look that almost tears him apart. “Fine.” Nile practically bounces up and down with delight, then grabs his arm and drags him inside.<br/>      As soon as they’re inside, Nile, of course, makes a beeline for the puppies. She coos over every single one, scratching them behind their ears and talking to them quietly. <br/>     “I like this one,” she says, petting a fluffy golden retriever pup. “What do you think, Book?” when he doesn’t respond, she turns around and searches for him. “Book?”<br/>     She finds him with the birds, locked in a staring contest with a gorgeous Senegal parrot. “Hi there,” he says softly to it, reaching out to it. “You’re a pretty little guy, aren’t you?”<br/>   The parrot squawks in response and lets Booker gently stroke the feathers on his head. Booker smiles softly to himself as the bird makes a happy noise that’s almost a purr and nips affectionately at the frenchman’s fingers.<br/>      “He likes you,” Nile comments. Booker looks up, noticing her for the first time, then gives a skeptical look to the parrot. “You think so?”<br/>     The parrot squawks again and nuzzles at his hand. Booker laughs, a genuine laugh that catches Nile completely off guard.<br/>    “Yeah, I like you too, Jacques,” Booker tells the bird. “Can I call you Jacques? Your name’s Jacques.”<br/>      It isn’t even a question after that. He gave the parrot a name, and it seems to make him happy. Nile knows exactly what she’s going to do, and she doesn’t regret it one bit.</p><p>The others are gathered around the computer when they get back to the hotel. “Oh good, you’re back,” Andy says, turning to greet them. “We need to talk- Why is there a parrot? Book, why do you have a parrot?”<br/>      “Nile got him for me,” Booker says, reaching up to pet Jacques, who is perched on his shoulder. “His name is Jacques.”<br/>      Andy turned an incredulous look on Nile. “Why the fuck did you buy him a parrot?”<br/>“Look at them,” Nile tells her. Andy glances at Booker, smiling gently at his bird, and her face softens. <br/>     “He’s beautiful,” Nicky says, reaching out a hand to Jacques. Jacques lashes out, quick as lightning, and bites him, hard.<br/>   “I take it back,” Nicky mutters, glaring daggers at the parrot.<br/>“Anyway, you guys have got to see this,” Andy says, gesturing to the computer. Copley’s there, on a video call, looking very confused. “What’s this about a parrot?” he asks. Nile grins. “Ask Book. He’s found the new love of his life. What’s up?” <br/>   “This.” Joe, who is stationed closest to the computer, switches the screen to show a screenshot of Copley’s social media feed. “Look.”<br/>       Nile frowns. “I’m sorry, your social media is @FuckYeahItsCopley?”<br/>“That’s not what’s important,” Copley says hurriedly. “Look closer.”<br/>      Nile studies the page, her eyes widening as she does so. “What is this?”<br/>“Someone filmed our performance,” Joe explains. “And put it all over the internet. Turns out… we’re not that horrible a band after all.”<br/>      Nile can’t help but start laughing. “You guys,” she howls between bouts of giggles. “You guys! We have fans. We’re famous.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. In Which Joe Gets Fangirls</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>the band gives their second performance. They have fans now. Booker actually makes a friend. Jacques and Nicky are mortal enemies.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Their second performance is at a different event, in a different building that is just as elegant as the one they had previously performed in. <br/>           “We do this quick,” Andy reminds them all as they are getting ready to go onstage. “We do the set, and then we do not hesitate to get to the target and take him out. Got it?” <br/>          Nods and agreements all around. Nile watches as Booker puts Jacques in his cage, stroking his feathers and murmuring sweet nothings to him. He had refused to leave the parrot behind at the hotel, but Andy had drawn the line at bringing him onstage. Booker isn’t happy about this, but Nicky definitely is, seeing as how the second Jacques had seen him that morning, he had attacked him in a flurry of talons and beak. Nicky had ended up covered in thousands of tiny scratches, which Joe had insisted on kissing better, even though they had healed almost immediately. <br/>         “Demon bird,” Nicky mutters now, glaring at Jacques. “That creature was sent from the pits of hell to kill me.”<br/>        “He was not,” Booker snaps. Reaching out to ruffle Jacques’ feathers again and muttering “Shh don’t listen to him Jacques, he doesn’t understand you. You’re a beautiful boy, a precious boy, the light of my life. Nicky’s just jealous because he’ll never have what we have.”<br/>         Nicky looks like he’s about to say something to that, but Joe grabs his arm and drags him away before he can. </p><p> </p><p>            The first thing Nile notices when they get onstage is the people. There are way more people than there were the first time, crowding towards the stage and cheering excitedly when the band comes out.<br/>         “What the fuck?” Andy mutters, staring around at the massive gathering. <br/>“Told you we were famous,” Nile replies, grinning wickedly.</p><p>       They launch into their set. It’s the same as the other night, seeing as they didn’t expect to have to do more than one performance and therefore didn’t write any other songs. But the crowd doesn’t seem to mind. The minute the opening chords of ‘Crusaders’ are played, they go wild, screaming and jumping up and down in excitement. <br/>         Booker seems completely out of his depth with the size of the audience, and his performance is stilted and nervous. Andy is frowning the entire time, but it somehow adds to her drumming, giving her an intense, dangerous vibe that the crowd eats up. When her drum solo kicks in, Nile sees about twelve guys smoothing back their hair, making bets on who had the best chance with her. Good luck with that, Nile thinks.<br/>       Joe is loving this. He gets really into the performance, playing his guitar with way more enthusiasm than he previously had. He plays into the crowd, doing little dances, waving, and blowing kisses to them all. Nicky is less enthusiastic, but while he glares a little at the swooning girls in the audience, he also smiles at seeing Joe having so much fun. <br/>        When they get to Booker’s song, the mood changes a little. The audience settles down, listening to the lyrics, some of them looking a little concerned. But as soon as the song is done, the band is met with thunderous applause. Joe gives a deep bow, Nicky inclines his head slightly, Andy crashes her cymbals, Nile winks at the crowd, and Booker just looks lost. </p><p> </p><p>        The minute they come out from backstage after the set, they are swarmed by thousands of people, all asking questions and clamoring for their attention. Joe, Andy and Nile take most of the questions, giving quick answers that won’t blow their cover. They tell the fans each of their names, saying no, we haven’t recorded an album, no, we’re not going on tour, no of course ‘Crusaders’ wasn’t inspired by a true story, yes, we are a new band, sure you can have my autograph (that last one is Joe). Andy looks desperate to get out, searching the crowd for their target, but is unable to find him through the throng of people. Of course, that is the moment she is surrounded by men trying to get her number. Nile sticks close by her, so as to interfere if it looks to be getting close to a massacre.<br/>             Joe is holding his own, signing autographs and answering more questions, Nicky hovering silently by his side. <br/>       “You’re SO HOT!” yells a girl in the crowd, and Joe winks at her. “I may be, as you say, SO HOT,” he admits, “But my Nicolo here is all the beauty in the world and beyond.” with that said, he pulls Nicky in for a passionate kiss, and the crowd goes even crazier. The fangirls all look slightly disappointed, and Nicky shoots them a smug look. </p><p>          Booker somehow manages to push his way through the masses of people and makes his way to the bar, where he finds AJ waiting for him. “Fancy seeing you here,” the stranger calls. <br/>       “Oh great, it’s you again.” Booker mutters, taking a seat and getting a drink. “Are you stalking me or something?”<br/>        “Would you like me to stalk you?” AJ leans against the bar next to him. “I’m sure I can find some time for it.” he flashes a blinding grin. Booker snorts. <br/>       “Why aren’t you out there greeting your adoring fans?” AJ asks him. “Are you kidding?” Booker laughs humorlessly. “I can assure you that I have no adoring fans. No one gives a damn about me. And no one should.”<br/>        “Not with that attitude,” AJ points out. “You need to give people a chance, Sebastien. You need to give yourself a chance.”<br/>         “Maybe you’re right,” Booker admits, taking a sip of his drink. “But I really don’t want to interact with those people anyway. I mean, just look at how they dress.”<br/>       “Says the man with the low cut shirt and purple hair.”<br/>Booker laughs, this time slightly more genuine. “Excellent point. You know, you’re not that bad,” he admits grudgingly. AJ grins. “What did I tell you about giving people a chance?”</p><p> </p><p>          They don’t get to Bouffant that night. None of them even see him at all, constantly surrounded by fans as they are. When they get back to the hotel, Andy collapses on her bed, muttering “fuck fuck fuck FUCK. How are we supposed to get this guy now?”<br/>        “We’ll figure it out,” Nile reassures her. Booker doesn’t look up from where he’s already spread out on the couch, Jacques perched on his chest. <br/>        “For now, let’s just get used to being famous.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. In Which Joe Gets What's Coming To Him</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The squad struggles to complete their mission. Booker is a mess. Jacques is love Jacques is life.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They don’t get to Bouffant the next night. Or the night after that. They’re too occupied with being a semi-famous band. <br/>      There are more and more fans at every performance now, more and more people crowding around, asking for autographs. They’ve gone from fangirling over Joe to fangirling over him and Nicky, and are constantly pressing them about their love story, which they refuse to tell the fans, claiming that it’s ‘too personal’ when in reality they don’t know how to tell a semi-truthful story that doesn’t involve ‘oh we met fighting opposite each other in the crusades’.<br/>      Andy tries to avoid the fans, but Nile keeps dragging her into the crowds to talk to people. Eventually Andy gives in and accepts that they have to deal with this, even though she keeps reminding everyone to focus on the mission. <br/>      Booker can always be found by the bar with his new friend AJ, drinking and talking. If a fan approaches him he will make polite conversation, but not many fans do. He seems fine with this. He brings Jacques everywhere with him now, only locking him up in his cage during the shows, always going back to let him out right after. Jacques has acquired an arsenal of tiny hats, capes, and ties, all of which Nile and Booker handmade for him, and all of which he wears with pride.<br/>       Booker also spends the days in the hotel room writing more songs, occasionally collaborating with Joe. They combine Joe’s way with words and Booker’s memories and emotions in a way that is surprisingly perfect. The fans eat it up when they debut the new songs, going wild over ‘Camille’ which is inspired by Booker’s long-dead wife. It’s a sad song, but full of love and longing, and it fits the band perfectly.<br/>      “You know what,” Joe says at one point, going through the screenshots Copley had sent them of how popular they had become online. “I think we should record an album.”<br/>      And so they do. They speedrun production on the album and have it out in a month. <br/>“A month,” Andy sighs, flopping backwards on her bed. “This mission was supposed to take a day. Maybe two. What the hell happened?”<br/>      “We can go after Bouffant tonight,” Nile promises. </p><p>They do make an attempt to go after Bouffant that night, sending Nile through the crowd with a thin knife hidden up her sleeve. They find her bound and unconscious in a closet later. <br/>     “I didn’t see who it was,” she explains as they untie her. “The son of a bitch hit me in the back of the head or something.”<br/>      “Must have been the same guy that shot me and Nicky,” Joe reasons. <br/>They make several more attempts in the next several days, but each time they are foiled before they can even get close, each time by an unidentified man. <br/>    “Bouffant must have hired some sort of bodyguard,” Copley decides when they call to tell him about it. “I think your next move should be finding out who this guy is and going after him.”<br/>      The team all agree. But they get nowhere.</p><p>  They’re hanging out at a cafe in town, sitting around an outdoor table. Joe is drawing, Nicky is staring at Joe, Andy is drumming on the table, Nile is taking in the sights, and Booker is reading, Jacques perched on his shoulder, wearing tiny sunglasses that match Book’s perfectly. <br/>      “Oh my god,” A young woman squeals, coming over to their table, staring at Jacques. “Is that your pet?”<br/>         Booker looks up from his book, then puts it down on the table, lowering his sunglasses. “He’s not my pet,” he says calmly, a strange fire lighting his eyes. “This parrot is more to me than you can dream. He is the moon when I’m lost in darkness and warmth when I shiver in cold, and his squawk still thrills me even after a millenia.”<br/>      Across the table, Joe’s eyes widen and he makes a sound very similar to Jacques’ squawk. Nicky chokes, glancing at Joe. Andy raises an eyebrow. <br/>       “I love this parrot beyond all measure and reason,” Booker continues, a villainous little smirk crossing his face as Joe turns tomato red. “He’s not my pet.” Booker’s eyes dart to Joe briefly, and he winks. Nicky stifles a giggle. <br/>       “He’s all and he’s more.” Booker touches his nose to Jacques’ feathery head softly. The young woman who had approached them looks confused, and just nods before turning and walking away.<br/>        Booker looks way too pleased with himself. Nicky is full on cackling now, as Joe’s mouth works, trying to find words. “You- I can’t believe- How did you even know about that- You absolute- Nicolo, it’s not funny!”<br/>     Nicky makes a valiant effort to calm down. “You have to admit, amore, we had that coming.” he says. Joe still looks indignant, but sighs. “Fair point.”<br/>       Booker looks so happy in that moment, Nile almost forgets the sadness and pain she sees in him most of the time. Almost.</p><p>       One day the next week, Booker doesn’t show up to their performance. Joe ends up having to sing, which he does quite well. They don’t stay for fan questions after that.<br/>      When they get back to the hotel, they find Booker lying on his couch, staring at the ceiling. <br/>“What the fuck, Book?” Andy snaps, crossing her arms across her chest. Booker doesn’t look at her. “How’d it go?”<br/>      “How’d it go???” Andy cries, furious. “Where the hell were you?”<br/>“I was here,” Booker explains. “I can’t do this anymore, Andy.”<br/>      “And why the hell not?”<br/>Booker squeezes his eyes shut. “I just can’t, alright?”<br/>       “Why not?” Andy demands again. <br/>“Because I’m a mess!” Booker shouts, rising to his feet. “You know that. You all know that better than anyone. And all those people out there- they’re going to figure it out soon enough. They deserve better than me. You guys deserve better than me.”<br/>         “Book-” Andy’s voice is calmer now. “Just talk to us. We can work through this. Just come and do the shows with us-”<br/>        “You don’t get it!” Booker snaps. “The shows make it worse. Those songs- they’re the truth. They’re what I feel. And every time I sing those songs, it all comes back to me. The memories, the pain, the self-hatred. It makes it so much worse, constantly singing about them.”<br/>       “We don’t have to do those songs,” Nicky pipes up.<br/>“What other songs are we going to sing, Nicky? These are the ones the people love, what they want to hear. We’re doing so well, we can’t just completely change everything now. So I’m sorry, but I can’t do this anymore. I just can’t.” <br/>     And with that, he turns and stalks out of the hotel room, slamming the door behind him. <br/>“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Andy yells after him, but it’s no use. He’s gone.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. In Which Booker Needs Therapy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Booker is a sad man. His family wants to help him. AnGsT (feat. forehead kiss)</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He walks for hours. He doesn’t exactly know where he’s going or why he’s going there, he just needs to keep going. If he focuses on his breathing, on the sound of his footsteps, maybe he can push back the storm roiling inside his brain. Maybe he can avoid going for a drink just a little longer. If he finds something else to pay attention to, maybe he won’t cry. Maybe… </p><p>       There’s a small beach a little ways out of town. No one’s there right now, so that’s where he goes. It’s mostly rocks and sparse grass, so it’s not really an ideal place to go hang out, but it’s perfect for being alone.</p><p>       He finds a flat rock by the water and sits down on it heavily. He pulls the flask out of the inside of his jacket and unscrews the top… then stops. He stares at it for a silent moment, hands trembling, then hurls it away from him with a strangled scream. No. That’s not what he needs right now. But he wants it. Just one drink, and it will all go away…</p><p>       No. No. He needs to stop, he needs to fix this, he needs to sit for a moment and breath, he needs to think, he needs to stop thinking, he needs everything to stop, he needs to be alone, he needs to be held, he needs to talk to someone, he needs to scream at the top of his lungs, he needs Camille, he needs… </p><p>       He buries his face in his hands and forces the tears back. Why? Some rebellious part of him asks. Why not just let it all out?</p><p>Because he’s afraid of what will happen when he does.</p><p> </p><p>       There’s a rustling in the air and something lands lightly on his head. A familiar squawk accompanies the added weight. </p><p>       “Jacques,” Booker sighs, almost laughing. He stretches out a hand, and the parrot hops onto it. “You beautiful idiot bird, you followed me.”</p><p>      “I told you Jacques would find him!” echoes a voice from further up the beach. “Well done, Jacques!”</p><p>         “That beast does not deserve praise,” grumbles another voice, coming closer. “Look at what it did to my face.”</p><p>        Booker doesn’t look up as Joe and Nicky come around his rock until they’re standing over him, off to one side a little.<br/>     “Your bird is evil,” Nicky says without preamble. “It tried to kill me on the way here.”</p><p>Booker glances over at him briefly, noting the fading scratches across his cheeks. “Looks like he got pretty close to succeeding,” he remarks. “Good for him.”</p><p>      Both Joe and Nicky fold their arms and glare at him. How the hell are they so synchronous? Nine hundred plus years of being together will do that to you, Booker supposes. He wouldn’t know. </p><p>       “You know why we’re here, Sebastien,” Nicky says quietly.</p><p>             “I sure hope it’s not to talk about feelings.”</p><p>“You know damn well it is,” Joe snaps, nudging him over and sitting down next to him on the rock. Nicky remains standing. “We’re worried about you, asshole.”</p><p>      “Why?” Booker asks. He honestly doesn’t understand this. “I’m a mess. You shouldn’t want anything to do with me.”</p><p>    “You’re not a mess,” Nicky counters. Booker gives him a look. “When they interviewed our fans on their opinions about each of us, the only thing that was said about me was ‘that man needs therapy’.”</p><p>       “You’re somewhat of a mess,” Joe admits. “But messes can be cleaned up.” </p><p>“‘Messes can be cleaned up?’” Booker snorts. “I thought you were a poet, not someone who steals from inspirational posters.”</p><p>    Joe frowns. “That was poetry. It was poetic.”</p><p>“It was cute,” Nicky reassures him. “But what Yusuf meant to say is that we are your family. We love you. We want to see you happy and healthy.”</p><p>    “It’s a bit too late for that,” Booker mutters. </p><p>“Therapy’s a good idea,” Joe offers. “Have you ever considered trying it?”</p><p>      “Are you serious?” Booker raises an eyebrow. “How the fuck do you expect me to explain this to a therapist? I’m sorry, but there’s no fixing me.”</p><p>Joe frowns. “Look, Sebastien. We care about you and want to help you, but that’s not going to work if you don’t cooperate.”</p><p>       Booker lets out a bitter laugh. “There’s no helping me. Don’t you get it? And you shouldn’t care. I don’t deserve that. You should just leave me here to rot.”</p><p>       Joe’s eyes blaze, and he looks like he’s about to say more, but then Nicky touches his arm lightly. A silent conversation passes between them, and then they get up and leave.</p><p>      Booker just sits there, staring out at the water, until Andy comes and perches next to him. “Joe and Nicky say you’re not cooperating,” she tells him. “So I’m here to kick your ass until you do.”</p><p>        “Go ahead,” Booker says. “I won’t stop you.”</p><p>Andy sighs. “Why didn’t you tell us about this? Talk to us about how you’re feeling?”</p><p>      “I didn’t see the point,” Booker admits. “I didn’t think it would help.”</p><p>“But don’t you get that we love you? That we’re here for you? That you’re our family and that means something?”</p><p>      “I don’t want to burden you,” Booker says quietly. “You already have so much pain of your own, you don’t need to carry mine as well.”</p><p>    “That’s what family does, Book,” Andy snaps. “We help each other carry our burdens. We carry each other through anything. We’re there for each other, no matter what. And we refuse to let each other drown in our sorrows.”</p><p>      Booker sighs, and gives up. The tears finally come. “I’m just so tired,” he whispers. “Of hurting, of being hurt, of remembering. I’m even tired of the drinking. I just want it all to end.”</p><p>      Andy almost starts crying herself. “I know,” she says. “Believe me, I know. But there’s nothing you can do about it. It will never go away. But what you can do is try. Talk to someone about it, lessen the burden by sharing it. And for the memories- make new ones, happy ones to counter the sad. Find someone to love. Even a short time with someone who can hold your heart is better than no time at all. And remember, Book,”</p><p>     She takes hold of his shoulders and turns him to face her. “I know you can never replace your first family. But we’re your family too. And we will never leave you. We are here. Just remember that.” with that said, she leans in and kisses his forehead lightly, reminiscent of the way he used to kiss his sons goodnight when they were little. </p><p>She stands up and walks away, leaving him alone with Jacques. He stares at the bird, and the bird stares back. </p><p>Maybe he can’t be fixed. But that doesn’t mean he can’t try.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Here are some Booker songs that I've been listening to because I love this sad French boi:<br/>Hallucinogenics - Matt Maeson<br/>Danger to Myself - The Unlikely Candidates<br/>Sinners - Barns Courtney<br/>The Mystic - Adam Jensen<br/>Palace - Matthew and the Atlas</p><p>And here are some songs that represent the things Andy, Nicky, Joe, and I would like to say to him:<br/>It's Alright - Mother Mother<br/>Flares - The Script (lyra if you're reading this yes this was inspired by your gifset)<br/>King - Lauren Aquilina</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. In Which Jacques Saves the Day</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The hitman is revealed. Booker makes the best decision of his life. The band goes on tour.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>the plot twist is obvious, i know. sorry not sorry.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>That night, they are supposed to do another show. The venue is not far from the small beach, so Booker heads there after spending a few minutes on his own, thinking. Normally he hates thinking, because it brings up all sorts of awful things, but today is different. </p><p>      He keeps replaying Andy’s words in his head, about making new memories to counter the old ones. He has to admit, she has a point. He hates himself for never thinking about this before. God, he’s such a fucking asshole. To himself, and to the others. He was so focused on being miserable, he never stopped to consider how not to be miserable.</p><p>       But now… now he’s considering it, and suddenly everything looks a little bit brighter. He hears AJ’s voice in his head: ‘you need to give people a chance, Sebastien. You need to give yourself a chance.’</p><p>      “You’re right, AJ.” he says out loud as he walks. “And I will. I’ll give myself a chance. And then maybe I’ll give you a chance.”</p><p> </p><p>       The backstage area is silent when Booker (and Jacques) get there, which is strange considering the others should be getting ready to perform. </p><p>  “Andy?” Booker calls, looking around him warily, suddenly on guard. “Joe? Nicky? Nile? Guys?” no answer. He rounds the corner to the main area and freezes in place.</p><p>       His family is scattered across the room, draped over furniture and equipment, bloodied and unmoving. </p><p>      They’re dead. They must have just been hit, because none of them are waking up yet. And in the center of the room, gun in hand, is AJ. </p><p>    “It’s you,” Booker says, staring at the man he had thought was his friend. Then he laughs bitterly. “Of course it’s you. Of fucking course.”</p><p>    AJ turns and starts when he sees him standing there. “Oh, hi Seb,” he says with a wink. “Sorry about the mess. If I had known you were coming I would have cleaned up.”</p><p>“You’re the hitman,” Booker snarls. “The one Bouffant hired.” </p><p>AJ inclines his head. “That’s me. Now if you’ll excuse me, I must be going.” </p><p>      “You’re not going anywhere,” Booker snaps at him. In response, AJ raises and eyebrow, then lifts the gun and fires before Booker has a chance to react. The bullet hits him in the gut and he doubles over. AJ takes the opportunity to bolt past him and out the door. Booker straightens up, fighting through the pain, getting ready to chase after him, when he hears AJ yelling in pain and annoyance. “Ow! Stop it! Get off me, you stupid fucking- fucking parrot-”</p><p>     Booker can’t help but smile to himself as he limps after AJ to find the hitman being repeatedly divebombed by Jacques in the alley behind the venue. </p><p>“Your bird is a fucking nightmare,” snarls AJ. Booker grins. “He just has an excellent bitch sensor. Except for when it comes to Nicky. I don’t know why he hates Nicky. We’ll need to work on that.”</p><p>       He lifts the gun he took off of Andy’s body and points it directly at AJ. AJ sees it and his eyes widen in fear. “I thought we were friends,” he says quietly.</p><p>“So did I,” Booker admits. And I thought maybe we could be more, he thinks to himself, but he doesn’t say it out loud. “But you hurt my family. No one hurts my family.”</p><p>The gun goes off. AJ falls, scarlet blooming on his forehead. Jacques lets out a squawk of triumph and flies over to Booker, landing on his head and ruffling his feathers proudly.</p><p>     “You were fantastic, my love,” Booker tells him. “You deserve a tiny hat.”</p><p>“Book?” calls a voice behind him, and he turns to see Andy, Joe, Nicky, and Nile coming out of the building, bloodied but alright. He lets out a sigh of relief when he sees them all. His own bullet wound is closing up as well, the pain receding with it.</p><p>     “Are you okay?” Andy asks. He meets her eyes, trying to convey everything without saying words. “No,” he says softly. “But I will be.” </p><p>When the others give him a concerned look, he adds “I think I’m going to try therapy.”</p><p>      There’s a moment of stunned silence, before Nile launches herself at him in a tackle hug. He hugs her back, letting himself really relax and be held for the first time in a long time. </p><p>Joe whoops, and Nicky can’t hold back his excited grin. Andy gives Booker a pleased thumbs up. “Good for you,” she says. “But first, we have a job to do.”</p><p> </p><p>      They take Bouffant out easy that night. If the fans notice the blood on them, they don’t say anything, probably thinking it’s part of the performance.</p><p> After that they go on tour all over Europe, performing all their songs for their millions of fans. Booker has a new energy when he sings, like he’s come back to life. It’s infectious.</p><p>   When the tour is over, they go back to their old life, putting their instruments away, returning to a small safe house in the middle of nowhere. But it doesn’t feel like an ending. If feels like a beginning.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>one more chapter!!!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. In Which There Is An Ending And A Beginning</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Booker x Therapy finally becomes canon.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The office is nice, with mahogany floors and muted forest green wallpaper that gives it an elegant but homely feel. There are two tall windows, each framed by white curtains that are open to let in the afternoon sunlight. There is a desk by one wall, covered in personal knickknacks such as old movie posters and a rainbow flag. </p><p>       The man seated at the desk looks up when Booker comes in, a welcoming smile crossing his face. “You must be Sebastien,” he says, getting to his feet and offering a hand. Booker takes it and shakes it warily. “Yeah. You can call me Booker. Everyone does.” </p><p>     “What’s wrong with Sebastien?” the man asks. “I like Sebastien.”</p><p>Booker shrugs, then offers a weak smile. “Sebastien is fine.”</p><p>      “I’m Marco,” the man says. “Actually, officially I’m Dr. Ramirez, but please skip the formalities. It’s just Marco.”</p><p>     Booker nods and studies Marco, taking a minute to just look at him. He’s tall, but not freakishly, with coppery skin and gentle dark eyes. His hair is a shade of brown so dark it’s almost black, and is a little bit messy, like he ran a hand through it and didn’t fix it afterward. He has a splash of nearly invisible freckles across his nose and cheeks. He is, quite simply, very attractive. </p><p>      “You’re nervous,” Marco notes. Booker glances down at the ground, embarrassed. “A little,” he admits. “I’ve never- This is all new to me.”</p><p>    “I get it,” Marco reassures him. “Therapy can be… it can be hard. But it’s worth it.” he frowns. “At least I hope it’s worth it. I would hate thinking I’ve helped people and then finding out I’ve done nothing.”</p><p>      Booker lets out a quiet snort. Marco grins and gestures to the huge couch piled with pillows in the center of the room. “Shall we begin?”</p><p>Booker takes a deep breath, then nods. “Yeah.”</p><p> </p><p>      He goes to therapy for the next couple of months, letting everything out. At first he keeps it vague, but he ends up telling Marco the whole truth, which he takes surprisingly well. He doesn’t even ask for evidence, but Booker provides it anyway, giving himself a paper cut on purpose so Marco can watch it heal.</p><p>      After that he and Marco start spending a little time together outside of sessions. And then even more. Soon they have started seeing each other in more ways than one. </p><p>     Marco’s a great guy, and he makes Booker happy, which has the rest of the team accepting him as family from day one. He’s even offered all of them free sessions any time they need it, which Andy is secretly considering taking him up on.</p><p>     Booker isn’t completely healed. He probably won’t ever be, but he’s trying. Slowly but surely, he’s seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. And he’s going to be okay.</p><p>      A few months later, the team is sitting together at an outdoor table at a cafe, watching people go by. Booker is texting Marco little hearts and pretending that he’s not, but Nile can clearly see his phone from where she’s sitting. Jacques is perched on his shoulder in a top hat, squawking at everyone who passes. </p><p>        At first there’s just contented silence, and then Andy frowns. “Wait a second. Guys, do you hear that?” </p><p>   They all stop to listen. There’s a radio somewhere near the cafe, and they can hear it from where they sit. It’s one of their songs. </p><p>      “Hell yes,” Joe gets to his feet and grabs Nicky’s hands, pulling him up and twirling him around. Nicky laughs, and Nile gets up to join them. Andy starts drumming along on the table, and Booker sings under his breath, recalling all the lyrics perfectly.</p><p>     When the song ends, the radio host starts talking, saying “And that was viral sensation Sad French Boi Hours, who appeared and then subsequently disappeared in Europe earlier this year, leaving behind a lot of fans who are wondering ‘will they ever release a new album? Are they planning another tour?’ Hopefully we will hear from them soon.”</p><p>     Nile turns to Andy and raises an eyebrow. Andy sighs. “No way.”</p><p>“The tour was fun,” Joe points out. “Really fun.”</p><p>     “I have plenty of new inspiration for songs,” Booker adds. </p><p>“I still have my leather jacket,” Nicky says. Jacques squawks in agreement.</p><p> Andy looks between them all, shaking her head. “I can’t believe you’re making me do this. We’re a disaster.”</p><p>    “No,” Booker tells her. “We’re a family.”</p><p>“No,” Nile says, eyes gleaming. “We are Sad French Boi Hours.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Whew!! And that's the end! Thank you so much for sticking with me (if you actually did lol). This was really fun to write and I hope you guys enjoyed it too! &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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